Page 59 of Highland Slayer
That was true. The mist was both a help and a hindrance in circumstances like this. Willem was looking out over the grass, seeing the shadows of trees through the fog, thinking of another way to breach the abbey.
Only one came to mind.
“If we could just get one man inside, he could get to the gates and open them,” he finally said. “Or we can simply remain in hiding. They’ll have to open the gates eventually. When they do, we can rush the gates and gain entry.”
Bastijn leaned his head back against the bark of the tree. “They would not be expecting it,” he said thoughtfully. “It would make it easier for us.”
“The would not have time to produce their weapons.”
Willem looked off toward the east. “I noticed a vale in that direction when we came down the road,” he said, pointing. “If we retreat back to the vale, we can have men watching the road so we will known when people approach.”
“And the gates will open.”
“Precisely.”
It seemed that a plan was set. As the night deepened and the mist seeped into their clothing, making them feel cold and wet, they kept their focus on the gatehouse and on the structure in the distance, waiting for dawn and knowing that once it came, hopefully, their path forward should be clearer.
The queen was so close that Bastijn could smell her.
God help her when he finally got his hands on her.
Now, all they could do was wait.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The fog hadn’tlifted by morning, but at least there was some light to see by now.
It was very little light, but it was enough. The women could move about the bailey without running into anything, but the land was still coated in mist. It touched everything, wet and cold.
The morning meal was being prepared and the smell of smoke, trapped by the fog, was heavy in the air. The children were up and moving, carrying water and supplies into the sanctuary under Mateo and Sister Hildegarde’s supervision, while Mother Michael and Anaxandra were handling the general protection of the abbey. Unfortunately, that ran counter to a few things that Estevan and Titan wanted to do, so at present, Estevan was trying to prevent a battle from breaking out.
Literally.
“Mother, I mean no disrespect, but have ye ever had tae defend St. Margaret’s?” Estevan asked as politely as he could. “Because it is different from being summoned tae fight another man’s battle. When yer home is attacked, ye must have certain protocols in place.”
Mother Michael was in full battle regalia this morning, which surprisingly consisted of chain mail that had been passed down from one mother abbess to the next. It was old, but it was serviceable. Her white hair was cut close to her scalp, wet with the mist, but her face was red with displeasure. She didn’t like these men telling her what to do when it came to the protection of the abbey.
Mother knew best.
“The abbey has stood for over one hundred years, young lord,” she said pointedly. “It can stand against a group of men from the sea just as it is.”
Estevan was struggling with his patience. “All I need ye tae do is open the gates and let the mist soak intae the portcullis,” he said. “We need the wood tae be wet so it canna burn should the enemy decide tae light it afire. It’s an older portcullis and the wood is splintering. We must soak it so it canna burn.”
Mother Michael’s solution to shoring up the security of St. Margaret’s was to keep everything closed, including the big gates, which were already soaked from the mist. They protected the portcullis, which had seen better days. Estevan was just trying to make the gatehouse less vulnerable, but she didn’t seem to like that.
“I will think on it,” she finally said. When he opened his mouth to argue, she put her hand up to silence him. “I know you are trying to help, but this place has stood for a very long time. We do have some experience in protecting it.”
Estevan sighed heavily and looked at Titan, who simply shook his head. He’d already had his own argument with Mother Michael about bricking up the postern gate. There were stones in an unused outbuilding that were from the building of the walkways and corridors decades ago, along with barrels of lime and sand. It was old, and some of it had already hardened, but they still had enough to use to block up the postern gate, which was not particularly stable.
But Mother Michael wouldn’t hear of it.
“Mother, we’re not contesting your ability to protect your women and children,” Titan finally said. “We are simply offering a fresh eye to what may be a weakness in your defenses. Both Estevan and I have years of education and experience in this matter. We are trying to help you.”
Mother Michael eyed the big knight. “I realize that,” she said. “And I further realize that you are a de Wolfe. Your family practically rules the north of England and southern Scotland right along with it, so you are accustomed to being in control. However, I am telling you that we do not need your suggestions. If you are to remain, I would appreciate it if you would simply do as I command. Can you do that or not?”
Estevan mumbled something that sounded like an affirmative, but Titan simply cocked an eyebrow.
“We can follow commands,” he said in a low voice. “But a good commander knows when to take the advice of his seasoned men. A good commander does not shut out reasonable suggestions. A commander who does not to do these things risks catastrophically failing, so aye, we will follow your commands, but if your command will risk my life or the life of my friends, I will not follow it. And you will know why because I will tell you. I hope we are clear on that because you are traveling down a dangerous path with your inability to listen to anyone other than yourself.”
